


Mochaccino

by greerian



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Bittersweet, But mostly sweet, Dorks in Love, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Sappy, Sex, Sweet, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 21:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10447764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerian/pseuds/greerian
Summary: It’s a quiet night in Uganda when Nabulungi and Arnold first make love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I fully recommend every fanfic author write straight sex at least once. It shows a lot about how you see women and men, and how you see heterosexual relationships versus homosexual ones. That being said, I really hope this is worth reading? It's sweet, I think, but maybe a little too sweet. I don't know how unsure Arnold would truly be in this situation, but I gave it my best shot.

It’s a quiet night in Kitguli. There are no storms, though one is building to the east. The village is still. For once, the darkness between huts is calm.

“Hey, so, um…” Arnold starts. Kevin looks up from his _Pearl of Great Price_. Arnold is twisting his tie into unrecognizability. “I’m gonna go see Nabulungi.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“It’s-” Kevin glances towards their room’s window- “like nine o’clock at night, Arnold.”

“I know,” Arnold says.

“If you go all the way to her place, you’re going to break curfew.”

“...yeah, that’s… that’s kinda the plan.”

Kevin narrows his eyes and shuts his book. “What plan?”

“W-well, uh…” Slowly but surely, a blush climbs up from Arnold’s collar. “Elder Hatimbi is kinda _out of town_ , and, and Sister Kalimba said she’d take care of Naba, but when Naba said she wanted to stay alone since she’s a grown-up and everything, Kalimba said that was fine, so… so Naba’s all by herself now, and…”

Arnold waits for his companion to fill in the blanks.

“So you’re going to spend the night with her until Elder Hatimbi comes back?” Kevin smiles. “That’s really nice of you, Arnold. I’m sure Nabulungi will appreciate the companionship. It must be scary for her to be alone. Should I go ahead and pack an overnight bag?”

“What? _Oh_ \- oh _no_! No, no, it’s not- it’s not _like_ that, it’s…”

“But, rule 72…?”

“Kevin, it’s not-”

“Also, I understand the two of you have your _thing_ , but your interactions still should be chaperoned, to make sure you’re keeping your focus on- well, on the Church of Arnold, now. But it’s all the same, I guess, since we’re working for Heavenly Father.”

“Uh, yeah, Kevin, about that…” Arnold’s tie may actually need repair now; he’s looped it around his hand so tight he thinks a few seams popped. “I don’t, uh… need a chaperone.”

Kevin smirks. “Come on, Arnold. I’m not that deep of a sleeper. If you’re going to Nabulungi’s, you need a chaperone to make sure you keep room for Jesus, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know _exactly_ what you mean, but-”

“And Arnold, I know you mean well, but we do have to follow some of the rules. Even if they seem silly, or overbearing, or, or…” Kevin’s brow wrinkles. “Now I’m just breaking my own case.”

“No, Kevin, that’s the _point_.”

“Following the rules?”

“No!” Arnold shakes his head, releasing the tie at last. “ _Not_ following them.”

Kevin’s still frowning.

“We have a thing,” Arnold reminds him. “And her dad is away. She’s got the place to herself? And… and we don’t need a chaperone?”

Kevin sits back on his bed. “Oh.”

“...yeah…”

“Um. Arnold, are you sure you-”

“Yes! _Oh_ yeah, yes, definitely, I totally… um…”

Kevin’s cheeks are starting to blaze. “At least you’re excited about it,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” Arnold answers. “Is that- I mean, I _know_ it’s bad, but-”

“No,” Kevin says. They both stop, and stare at each other for a second. “It’s- it’s against the rules, of course, by a long shot, but… it’s not bad. You guys are… Anyone can see, you’re- it’s not…” He struggles for a second longer. “She’s part of the church, at least. And, and she’s _good_ , Arnold. Really. Nabulungi’s great, and… I don’t think you could do- I mean, the two of you could do a lot worse than each other.” He smiles; it goes further up on one side than the other. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, congratulations.”

Arnold laughs. “Wait- really?”

“Yes. Well, that, and- and good luck.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause Mafala’s gonna kill me when he gets back.”

“That, and there’s… the AI-”

“She doesn’t have _AIDS_ , Kevin!”

“Yes, yes, you’re right, but there’s others, you know? And… I’ve-” He glances around, like somebody might be listening. “I’ve heard the first time can be… rough.”

“Uh…” Part of Arnold wants to know what Kevin means. The other part wanted to be gone ten minutes ago. “I’ll keep that in mind?”

“Okay,” Kevin replies. “Yeah. Pl- oh, gosh, Arnold, tell me you’re going to use protection?”

“ _Yeah_!” That was way too loud. “Y-yeah, I mean, I totally have, like, stuff, in my- in my pocket here. Yeah.”

It only cost Arnold about all of the allowance his parents sent last month, but he has both condoms _and_ something he’s pretty sure is lubrication. It’s called _gel for couples_ , so there’s, like, one thing it could be.

Kevin clears his throat. “Great,” he says. “Well.”

“Uh, I should probably…”

“Get going, yeah, right, you should.” Kevin clears his throat again, and grabs at his book. “I guess I should cover for you?”

“Cover?”

“If you’re not back by breakfast,” he explains. “You’re hardly up in time on a normal day. Now that you’re going to be, um, staying up late…”  
“Hey, yeah,” Arnold says, grinning. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Sure, pal.”

Arnold is reaching for the door when he thinks of something, though. “Hey,” he says again. “You’re… uh, you’re being really, um, cool about this. It doesn’t… bother you? After all, Mr. _Super Mormon_ -”

“That’s not me anymore, Arnold,” Kevin replies. “And… I don’t know, it’s sweet. I guess I hope when I find the right person, I’ll get the chance to do the same.”

Arnold’s grin gets a little softer. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “...thanks, Kevin.”

“Yeah,” Kevin replies, ducking his head. “Now get out of here, before Elder McKinley tries to turn the light out for us.”

That gets Arnold out the front door in seconds.

* * *

“Arnold!” Nabulungi calls, once he appears. Her lantern casts a light over his sweaty face. He’s huffing and puffing. “Did you run all the way here? Is something-” She peers out past him. “Is there something out there?”

Arnold shakes his head, trying very hard to catch his breath. “I j- uh, just wanted to hurry,” he says. “T’ see you. Didn’t wanna waste time.”

Nabulungi presses her free hand to her heart. “Oh, Arnold…”

He gives her a loving look in reply, or tries to. It’s hard when you’re trying to breathe.

She ushers him in, then, with a warm hand on his back. He catches how she looks around again before shutting the door.

“Should we worry?” he ventures. “Is there something really out there?”

Nabulungi turns and smiles indulgently at him. Somehow, she looks more beautiful than usual in the golden lantern light.

“There is always something out there,” she says. “Remember my warning, your first night here in Uganda?”

“Oh _yeah_ , I remember that, it was all like really creepy stuff, but then you waved and were cute and I kind of forgot everything, uh, you… you said.” Arnold laughs.

So does Nabulungi, though. “Arnold…” she says again. But it’s a completely different tone, this time. It’s lower, softer. It’s said as she walks closer, almost floating on bare feet. “I am so glad you came.”

“Uh, um, y-yeah, me too.”

Nabulungi sets the lantern on her table. It lights up the inside of the place, the hut where she and her father live. It looks nice tonight, shadows softening the rougher edges. It’s clean, too. Neat.

Nabulungi meets Arnold’s gaze and explains: “So we can find our clothes tomorrow.”

He bursts into laughter.

Nabulungi ducks her head, grinning, but Arnold saw her eyes get all wide. The whites catch the lantern’s glow, and he thinks she didn’t mean to say _that_ , exactly.

“You’re so hot,” he blurts out.

“What?”

“Like, _seriously_. That’s… the first thing I noticed about you. You’re like, head to toe, super hot, and- and I even told Kevin that! You’re so pretty, and then you actually talked to me and it was like-” Arnold mimes an explosion, adding his own patented sound effects. “You got ten times hotter. ‘Cause you weren’t mean, not at all. You were nice to _everybody_ , even me when I screwed up your name, and, and Elder Price when he was still a dick. So you’re pretty, and your nice, and you do all sorts of cool stuff on your ty- uh, texting device, and you’re just like a girl from a dream? But… but you’re here, and you invited me over, and…” Arnold falters. “I can’t believe you wanna do it with me.”

He’s never going to forget how Nabulungi looks, then. How she comes to him, delicate and slow and heart-stoppingly beautiful. Arnold can’t look away, even though his chest is aching and yeah, that’s right, he forgot to breathe. But who cares about that, when Nabulungi leans in close enough to kiss, and whispers “I love you, too, Arnold Cunningham.”

Then they really do kiss. She pushes up, and he leans down, and it’s just as great as every other time they’ve kissed except they love each other now. They’re taking it further this time. The thought makes Nabulungi’s full, soft lips taste a little more magical.

She’s not that much shorter than him - maybe two or three inches - but Arnold has to tilt his head just enough, and he loves that. He loves it so much. Because when Nabulungi pulls away and licks her lips he’s right there watching, and she looks up at him like… like he’s everything.

“Arnold?” she says.

“Yeah,” he answers, hoarse and throaty. “Yeah.”

His hands find her waist, and he _feels_ through his fingertips the way she shivers.

“Your dress is really thin,” he says, grabbing harder. “I can- I can feel you, wearing it.”

She giggles, but her lips are parted. She’s breathing heavy, too.

Just for that Arnold wants to kiss her again. He does, too - just because he can. And because of the sound she makes when he uses what she’s taught him. When he gently eases between her lips, slips her a little tongue, there’s a breathy gasp he thinks he’s not going to forget for a long, long time.

“Maybe not ever.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh. Uh… I was just thinkin’.” He looks down, away from her curious eyes, and gets an eyeful of what’s there at the v of her neckline. It doesn’t help at all. “I- I- I’m not gonna forget this. Ever. Whatever we do, I… Naba, y- you’re… you…”

Nabulungi grins wider and wider as Arnold stumbles and blushes and mutters. She doesn’t do anything, though, to put him out of his misery. Not until he’s trailed off in defeat. Then her arms come up to loop around his neck, and he meets her eyes just to have them flutter closed again. Nabulungi kisses _so well_.

She’s all soft, except for where his hands have come to rest. She has sharp hips, knobby knees, thin legs and ribs and wrists; but her hair.

Her mouth. Her skin, and that spark in her eyes.

Arnold swallows back more hysterical laughter against her lips.

She’s… she’s so _beautiful_. Everything he said in his rant earlier or has thought since is true, painfully so. Arnold feels it, deep in his chest. So pretty it hurts.

Arnold has to come up for air sometime. When he does, though, he just wants to dive back in.

Her hand, hot against his chest, stills him.

“We should make this more comfortable,” she suggests.

He’s nodding before she finishes the sentence, stripping off his mutilated tie. Then- buttons. So many buttons. Why does the Mormon missionary outfit have this many buttons? Probably because he’s not supposed to be stripping it off like this, but it’s still inconvenient as heck. Arnold has chubby, sweaty, clumsy fingers at the best of times, and _now-_

“Arnold.” Nabulungi’s hands cup his. Her dress is hiked up on one shoulder, like she started to take it off before she noticed the state Arnold got himself into. “Let me.”

“Oh. Um. Y-yeah, okay, if you want to.” It’s embarrassing, not being able to undress himself, until Nabulungi’s nimble hands skim down his chest, light as a feather, undoing the plastic buttons one by one. That’s not embarrassing. That sends shivers across Arnold’s skin, then heat, then-

“There,” Nabulungi declares, sliding the shirt off his shoulders. “You can do this one, right?”

She plucks at the top half of his temple garments.

“Y-yeah! Yeah, I can… I can do that.” How hard would it be to mess _that_ up?

...not that hard. Because as soon as he starts to take it off, Nabulungi drapes his shirt over a chair and grabs the hem of her skirt. She tugs it over her head, lays it across Arnold’s shirt, and turns back to him.

“Well?” she ventures.

Aside from tan panties and a bra, Nabulungi is completely naked. Those long, lithe legs bared, her shoulders uncovered.

Arnold swallows hard.

He’d never really gotten the long, slow check-out thing guys did in movies. Or what people, crude people, called _eye-fucking_. But now, oh, now he does. He wants to admire and soak in every inch of Nabulungi’s skin, and the only way to do that is to go slow.

His eyes trace up from her toes - always bare, always dusty (but not tonight; she must have bathed before he got here). Calves, rounded and slim. Thighs, gosh- they’re so smooth-looking. Arnold wants to run his hands all over them, up to the line of her underwear over her hips. Then there’s her hips, and he knew she was thin, but… she’s not _bad_ thin, just small. Compared to anybody else Arnold has seen naked, at least (at this point, that’s pretty much at his parents, himself, and Kevin). Arnold thinks, if he wrapped his hands around her waist at the narrowest point, his fingers could almost touch. _Wow_.

Even better than that, though, is just seeing her, really, for the first time. The softness of her stomach, the curve from hip to bra, the little bit of dark hair tracing a line below her belly button. The muscles of her stomach tense as he stares, like they know he’s watching. Her skin is lighter there than it is on her arms. Still warm brown. It’s funny to think Nabulungi tans, too. But then there’s her breasts, hidden behind those grey fabric cups that Arnold’s hands would make a _great_ replacement for right now. The swell of them teases him, making him want to reach out - but he’s not done noticing yet. No, ‘cause there’s freckles dotted across her shoulders, a mole above her left armpit, and her beautiful long neck, then he’s gotten to her face and she looks… scared.

“You’re… you’re like a mochaccino,” he breathes out.

Her nose wrinkles, just a bit. “What is that?”

“It’s- a drink,” Arnold says. He steps closer. Closer. One more, and he’ll press up against her, he’ll be touching her. “A really sweet drink, with, with _coffee_ and _chocolate_ and…” He swallows. “And whipped cream on top.”

“It sounds good,” she ventures.

“Yeah. It’s- it’s…”

Arnold wonders what she’ll taste like. When he kisses her skin. What if- what if he puts his mouth on her, down there? What will that be like? What flavor will he find?

“Can I kiss you?” he blurts out. “Please, Naba, you’re-”

She nods; he cups her face in his hands and tastes. He forgot, though: his shirt is off by one sleeve, bunched up at his neck. Nabulungi’s fingers twist in it and her laughter fills his mouth.

“I said ‘comfortable’,” she murmurs. “Not ‘half-dressed.’”

Arnold doesn’t apologize, though. She swallows anything he tries to say. Her hands drop to his belt.

“Do you like me?” she asks. Nabulungi makes quick work of the buckle. She’s sliding the pleather out of his belt loops before he can get his brain to work.

“What?” he whispers. “O-of course I like you, I l- we’re-”

“No, I mean…” She falters and looks away. That’s so much hotter without clothes on. “Do you like what you see?”

“ _Yeah_!”

Nabulungi’s eyes go very wide, and _right_ , they’re supposed to stay quiet. The huts in Kitgali aren’t far enough apart for yelling.

“Yeah!” he whispers. “Yes, Naba, you’re- you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen, even better than Carrie Fisher! Or, or Megan Fox, or Scarlett Johanssen! You’re, like, all of them, mixed together into one person, but black, and _so_ beautiful. Naba, you’re…”

“You think that I am beautiful?”

Arnold nods eagerly.

Nabulungi blushes. He barely sees it, but it’s there, and it makes her even _more_ beautiful and Arnold didn’t know that was possible but it _is_ and now he _has_ to get his hands on her or he’s probably going to die.

He reaches out - his hands are shaking. He’s actually trembling as he rests his sweaty palms on her shoulders.

“Nabulungi,” he starts. “Y-"

He didn’t notice where her hands were going, though. She cups him through his trousers, and there’s no speaking after that.

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Arnold,” she says.

Oh. Okay.

Arnold swallows. Then he reaches for the front of her bra.

“Oh, no, it- it unfastens in the back,” she tells him. “I usually pull it over my head? It is easier that way. One moment, let me-”

Nabulungi backs up just enough to keep from planting her elbow in his face, and tugs her bra off the way Arnold started to with his temple garment. Which reminds him, he’s still half wearing it.

The next few seconds are a flurry of getting _that_ off, along with his pants, and then the bottom half of his temple garments. That’s where he stops, because… even with Kevin, when they’re getting ready for bed, and even when Arnold has _personal time_ , the temple garments stay on. He’s got three pairs of these. They’re supposed to protect him from evil and temptation when he wears them right. They’re supposed to be… protection, almost.

But look at all the trouble he got into back when he wore them properly.

Arnold hooks his thumbs in the waistband, hesitating for the first time since Naba said her dad would be gone. There’s no coming back from this. This is breaking the rules, for good. This…

“Arnold?”

Arnold looks up, gets an eyeful of Nabulungi’s chest, and reflexively snaps his gaze away.

This is gonna be so worth it.

Slipping the elastic up and over his dick, Arnold lets the garment drop. They’re both naked, then. Completely and totally. Both sort of looking, but not full-on. Both grinning in equal embarrassment and delight.

“You do not look like I thought you would,” Nabulungi says.

“Uh, what happened to not talking?”

“No, you look... ah, you look… handsome.”

Arnold peeks up from the floor. “Really?” he wonders.

Nabulungi nods, smiling.

“I like you very much, Arnold,” she says, shuffling closer. “Can I-”

“Uh-huh!”

“...I didn’t say anything.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Arnold replies. “And, uh, whatever you were gonna say is totally fine, I promise. You can do whatever you want.”

“Can I… touch you?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he answers.

She stretches out a hand, setting it in the middle of his chest. He shivers.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Of course, yeah.”

She does; she nips at his lower lip, and whispers “Can I be on top?”

“Y- uh, what?”

She’s pouting when he gets his sight focused again. Nabulungi throws his  _everything_ out of wack.

“Baba says it will hurt less that way.”

“Your dad? Y- does he know about this?”

“No, no, he does not know. But he knew I would… that, someday…”

“Oh. Hey, well, that’s nice of him, giving you, uh, tips and all. Kinda wish my dad had done that.”

“He didn’t?”

Arnold paws at the back of his neck. “Nah, not… no. He didn’t. I learned most of what I know from… from the internet. And movies. And some pretty helpful pamphlets the nurse’s office at school had. I don’t even know how _they_ got ahold of some good stuff; my school was all 'abstinence is the best way' and 'sex is giving up a piece of yourself to your partner' and 'nobody has sex as much as you think they do' which is probably _true_ , but, uh… oh. Sorry.”

Nabulungi just smiles. “It is all right,” she says. “But we can talk about such things with clothes on.”

And nobody’s clothes are on right now. Not even _underwear_.

Arnold never thought he’d get this far with a girl, probably ever. Honestly, he was kind of hoping for some poor drunk classmate at a college party to give him a handjob so he could say he’d lost his virginity, and spend the rest of his life jacking it on his own.

Now, though, Nabulungi is pressing in at all angles, making sure every inch of him meets every inch of her, and she says “I am honored to give a piece of myself to you.”

Yeah, Arnold doesn't need to breathe.

Who does, though, when Nabulungi's there? Kissing her is the most important thing he could possibly do. Breathing can wait. So can thinking, worrying, making things up - anything else that Arnold cares about. They’re done with words now. He clutches her to him and yeah, his technique is getting sloppy, but so is hers. She’s gasping, but so is he. She’s making these sounds, too - like whimpers, but better. Like moans, but not as dirty. They sound like wanting.

Arnold swallows them down as best he can.

“Naba-”

“Bed,” she whispers. “Please.”

No need to say please; that’s exactly where Arnold’s thoughts were headed. He shuffles back towards it, never taking hands or mouth off her. He’s kissing her neck as tenderly as he can when the backs of his knees hit the bed. It throws off his balance.

Nabulungi grunts when she lands on top.

“Sorry,” he offers.

She shrugs. The warmth of her hits deeper. Her thighs fall apart to straddle him.

It’s Arnold’s turn to make embarrassing sounds. Nabulungi grins into his mouth.

“Do you want to touch?” she asks.

“Oh, I, uh…”

“You have kept your hands very still,” she says. “You can move them.”

“M-move them?”

“Yes.” Nabulungi sits up, putting her core right above his cock, and gently takes his hands. “Here-” She brings him to her breasts. “-or here-” Down to the slight swell of her rear. “-or here.” Forward, to the soft, tangled mass of hair between her legs.

Arnold swallows, hard.

“You, uh… you’re sure?”

Nabulungi giggles. “Yes, Arnold. I am sure.”

So sure that she guides his fingers to where she’s wet and hot, where her skin feels like silk and oil. It sticks; it’s tacky, when he takes his fingers away. Huh.

“I should probably, uh, put those back,” he says.

When he does, it wipes the smug grin off her face. She looks like she really, really likes having him touch there, and she even gasps when he starts moving. Gently, though. She’s… she’s very soft, down there. Delicate, almost. It makes Arnold want to be careful.

The more he moves, though - a smooth back-and-forth rub - the more she responds. She’s rocking into it, right over his dick, and, well… It feels _awesome_.

So Arnold keeps going. He goes too far once or twice, slipping inside and getting his fingers slicked up. Nabulungi doesn’t slap him away, though; she bucks into it. Gosh, he can feel how wet she’s getting on the underside of his dick.

“H-hey,” he ventures. “Hey, Naba?”

Her chest heaves as she slowly stills. “Yes?”

“Can- I mean, are we… is this… yeah.”

“...what?”

Arnold makes a face. He wanted to be _in_ her, like, yesterday, but she looks like she’s having a _great_ time, and it’s kind of awkward to just ask, and suddenly words aren’t working for him the way they’re supposed to.

He delves inside, instead. Her mouth opens - _oh_ \- and it looks like that gets the point across.

“I have never done that before,” she says.

Arnold laughs. “Neither have I.”

He’s done none of this before, but there’s still a gorgeous girl straddling his hips, grinding against him, wanting to be with _him_.

“I…” she falters. “I want you to… to make me ready.”

“Uh…” Isn’t that what they’ve been doing?

“Arnold, you have to stretch me,” she explains, hardly above a whisper. “So… so you will fit.”

Oh. “Y-yeah, right. I totally knew that.”

“You are kind of… big,” she says. “I was- I thought you…”

“Wait, you thought I’d have a smaller dick? ...I have a big dick?”

She’s blushing for sure now, she has to be. “Arnold, please. I am ready for you.”

Getting it into something is way more important than wondering about its size, at this point. “Okay,” Arnold agrees, and reaches down again.

He means to push into the gap, now. Means to delve deep inside her, pushing further than before. Means to fit his pointer and middle finger as far up as he can. Nabulungi cuts off a cry and bites her lip.

“Shoot, did I go too far?” he asks. “Naba, are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” she answers. “Yes, you… ah, reached further than I have. Keep going.”

Reached further? Is that good? Arnold can’t tell from the sound she made. But he listens; he goes in and out, in and out, until the bracing hand she keeps on his chest grip and dig in.

“More?”

“ _Yes,_ ” she gasps.

A third finger, and Arnold’s wrist is getting sore from the angle. Nabulungi isn’t even rocking against him, now. She’s leaning back to give him more space, bracing her weight with a hand on his thigh. She looks _amazing_ like this - a wet dream come true - but otherwise, it’s not doing much for Arnold.

“You ready?” he asks. _Please be ready_.

Thank Heavenly Father: she nods.

And this is it. This is Arnold, really doing it, for the first time.

His heart skips a beat or five in his chest.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. Okay, um… Naba, are you- do- what should-”

“I’ve got it,” she answers. She sits up, trembling. She breathes in, a little shaky, and if Arnold couldn’t feel her dripping onto his cock he’d probably be worried. But then she wraps her hand around him. The world could be ending, just outside the door, and Arnold wouldn’t give a damn. Not a single one. ‘Cause Nabulungi is touching him, guiding him to her entrance, pushing up on her beautiful thighs enough to line them up, and he can’t believe this is actually happening. He can’t believe he’s about to feel this.

She sinks down about halfway, and Arnold’s world explodes.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” he’s muttering, and he doesn’t usually talk like that. Doesn’t usually use such filthy language, but _holy shit_ it’s like being surrounded with warmth and goodness and want when all you’ve known is ice. It’s like finding a fire in the wilderness; stars in the night sky. It’s better than root beer floats and _Star Wars_ and all the medals in the universe. It’s _amazing_. “Naba-”

“Ah, Arnold-!”

“N-naba?”

Her thighs quake as he grabs them, runs his palms up and down her skin.  
“Naba?” he tries again.

“It… does not hurt,” she tells him. She’s closing her eyes so tight her whole face is wrinkled, though. “It is strange. Tight.”

“You’re telling me,” he mutters. “You’re, uh… okay, right?”

“Yes,” she answers, breathless. “Yes, just-”

She sinks down further. The very tips of her curls tickle and he’s tensing, arching into her, and something gives. Her rear meets his thighs; he’s balls deep inside her.

Nabulungi makes a tiny, broken sound.

“Naba?”

“I…” she starts. “S-so _full_.”

Arnold has never seen her like this before. Nabulungi always has something to say, is always eloquent and prepared. But he doubts he could say her full name right now, either. Much less tell her how this feels.

“I’m gonna- gonna-”

“ _Yes_ ,” she begs. “Arnold, please!”

Then any fears Arnold had about not knowing what to do, not knowing the right rhythm, falls away. It’s natural. It pounds through him like his pulse. Pure instinct sets their pace. Lust grabs Nabulungi by the hips, arching his own up inside her. There’s no time to think, but Arnold doesn’t need to. It’s just the two of them, and Nabulungi begged him.

Making love is all they need.

He doesn’t touch her like before. He’s pawing at her chest, her thighs, and there’s none of the gentleness or hesitancy of before. She touches herself, though, fingers flying. She throws back her head, and that neck - he wants to give her a hickey. A big one, so everyone knows. Dark and flushed under her skin. Arnold’s mark. Proof she gave this to him.

Her nails claw down his chest; showering is gonna hurt later, but he’ll gladly take it if this is the mark she wants him to wear. When he looks at where their joined, he sees the tails of the red, angry lines she’s leaving. He grins, and jacks up harder.

They mark each other, take each other, give and take and give and take. They arch and bend. They make sounds too filthy for anything but each other and their own ears. Arnold thinks he might black out in another few seconds. It’s all getting fuzzy, harder to focus and easier to move. He thrusts one, two, three, and three, and three, and Naba clenches tight around him and that’s it-

Arnold is gone.

The first thing he feels is not getting enough air. The way he’s breathing, you’d think he’d run all the way to the mission house. The second is pulses around his dick, still surrounded by warmth. The third is Nabulungi’s choked-off gasps.

She’s touching herself. She hasn’t come.

“O-oh, um…” Arnold wonders if he should apologize. He had free hands that whole time. He could have helped out. But better late than never, he guesses, so he reaches down again.

Nabulungi goes stiff and _screams_. The pulses turn into squeezes, hard and fast and never, never-ending. Arnold keeps arching because it feels so good it hurts but he can’t, he can’t, he just- and Nabulungi feels so good, and she’s shaking from head to toe and it feels like they’re both a little broken from it all.

The waves settle, slowly. Nabulungi climbs off and slumps beside him. Arnold realizes he’s shaking, too, and starts to laugh when he thinks about how sore he’s going to be tomorrow.

“What is it?” Nabulungi whispers.

“Uh, n-nothing, I just… I… I feel so…”

Even now that’s Arnold has come, he can’t think. Nabulungi stole that from him. He can’t string words together anymore. Maybe orgasming really took away his ability to talk. Maybe tomorrow he’ll try to tell a story and nothing will happen; he’ll stare off into the trees, remembering how it felt to have Nabulungi’s wetness on his dick.

Wait.

“Holy moly,” he whispers. “We forgot to use a condom.”

“Oh,” Nabulungi replies. “Arnold… There is something I should tell you.”

“Uh, is it more important than that we just had unprotected sex?" Arnold asks, laughing nervously. "‘Cause that kinda puts a damper on things.” How could he forget? He packed stuff and everything. Arnold was going to be responsible, and now-

“I cannot have children.”

“...what?”

Nabulungi smiles, soft and sad. “My mama could barely have me,” she says. “Gotswana told me so when I was very young. I could try and try, but nothing will happen.”

“Oh.”

Nabulungi looks away.

“But what about-”

“AIDS?” she asks. “That was my first time, Arnold, and it was yours. Neither of us have AIDS. We are safe.”

“S-so… so, it’s okay?” he asks. “To not do it right? I promise, next time I’ll remember, I just- you’re really super hot, and I was excited, and it- I-”

“Arnold,” Nabulungi murmurs. “It is all right. Next time we will do it right. But this time… it was perfect. Thank you.”

Okay. 

“Yeah,” he says. “N-no, thank _you_. Naba, that was- that was the greatest thing I ever... I mean, you're like-  _wow_ _,_ and-" 

She giggles. “You too, Prophet Cunningham. Now shush; we should sleep.”

Yes. Elder Hatimbi comes back tomorrow. Arnold heads back to the mission house tomorrow. They both have to make excuses tomorrow and pretend this wasn’t the happiest night of their lives.

But for now it can be.

Arnold slides an arm around Nabulungi. They scoot in close, until the bed seem almost a normal size and there’s no gap between their bodies. Nabulungi’s is hot. Arnold feels her heartbeat through her skin.

Out of sheer, sleepy curiosity, he kisses her shoulder. _Sweet_ , he thinks. The faint taste on his lips is sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos/comments!


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